Everything but the Girl
The Language of Life

THE REVIEW

For all those who loved the elegant atmospheres of the so-called English sophisti-pop, Everything But The Girl was an essential name, and this The Language of Life from 1990 sits at the pinnacle of their “new cool” period (there would later be a “dance” turn, but that’s another story).

The fifth studio album confirms the approach of the previous ones regarding the combination of Tracey Thorn's enchanting voice and Ben Watt's melodic writing, with the important innovation of the "American" production by Tommy LiPuma. A seasoned veteran of the most noble fusion, LiPuma incorporates some precious collaborations such as bassist John Patitucci or drummer Omar Hakim and then Michael Landau (electric guitar) and Joe Sample (ex-Crusaders; on piano on the title track); Russell Ferrante (ex-Yellowjackets; again on piano for “Meet Me In The Morning” and “Take Me”) and the two jazz tenor saxophonist gems Michael Brecker (“Driving” and “Letting Love Go”) and Stan Getz, who splendidly finishes off the album on the concluding “The Road.”

The classic EBTG sounds are then enriched with fascinating jazzy nuances intertwined with the romantically melancholic lyrics of Ben Watt (best piece “Driving”) or subtly sharp when Tracey takes up the pen.

There are only three songs penned by her, but from this perspective, they are also the most interesting, all with a touch of female self-awareness that was truly unusual for those years. Take “Meet Me In The Morning”: “I haven’t come to be a stranger / I haven’t come to break your home / I haven’t come to harm your children / I’ve come to be your love.” Similarly, in the title track: “Cause you never learned to speak the language of life / And here you are a grown man who can’t talk to his wife / And the children you just don’t understand,” or in the sarcastic “Me and Bobby D” referring to Bob Dylan: “Tell me, is it true that you beat your wife?” All this always with her soothing voice and without ever sounding like she's giving us a sermon on male incommunicability!

And then there’s a cover from Womack & Womack (“Take Me”) where – by comparing EBTG’s subtly erotic version with the innocuous original ditty – one better appreciates the concept of sophisti-pop I mentioned at the beginning.

Final note for the graphic part, truly impeccable: well-designed, complete with all the lyrics and discographic information, and enriched on the cover by a very “fashionable” shot by Nick Knight, already a fashion shooting star back then.

In conclusion: an excellent album